


Extra-Ordinary

by leiascully



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 10:51:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/886399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moira's extraordinary in her own way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Extra-Ordinary

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: during the movie  
> A/N: This was sitting finished in my Gdocs, so why not?  
> Disclaimer: _X-Men: First Class_ and all related characters are property of Bryan Singer, Fox, and Marvel. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

Moira's been the odd one out for what feels like most of her life. First there was school, where her disinclination to bake cookies for the football team or pretend that she wasn't good at physics set her apart from the rest of the girls gossiping in the bathroom. After that, there was the CIA. She can spit and drink like one of the boys, if it's necessary, but she doesn't have the requisite equipment for full membership, and quite frankly, she'd turn it down if it were offered - the government's finest aren't really any different from those girls in high school, except that they're swapping slightly more sensitive information. She has to admit, though, that this is the most strange she's ever felt, here in this estate full of mutants.

She can't walk through walls or set things on fire with the power of her mind or read anyone else's thoughts, at least no more than any other average human with profiler training. She can't manipulate metal or bring the storm or teleport or change her skin. Hell, she doesn't even have a photographic memory. She's devoted her whole life to trying to be exceptional, to at least play on the field with the men of her acquaintance, and then she met Charles Xavier and exceptionality took on a whole new level. Auburn hair's about the only mutation she's got going for her.

"Now, now, Moira," Charles says, patting her hand in a comforting but slightly condescending way, and she really wishes she didn't find him oddly attractive. "You have a great deal to offer us. The phenotypes that control your hair color are a lovely mutation and far from the only thing you've got going for you, as it were."

She smiles wanly at him and picks up her glass of juice. She'd prefer coffee, but Charles insisted on juice at breakfast as an example for the children. "Thank you, Charles, but I thought you weren't going to read my mind."

"He didn't have to." Erik snaps the newspaper pages unnecessarily loudly, she thinks. He's reading a French paper this morning. Show off. "Your thoughts were printed all over your face. 'Poor little Moira, so terribly ordinary'. You might as well give it up. If you were _that_ dull, Charles here wouldn't have picked you up."

"What Erik means to say," Charles says smoothly, shooting Erik one of their looks, "is that you have talents and qualities that anyone could appreciate, mutant or no. I certainly wouldn't have the first idea about how to handle the legal system."

"No, you'd just have every subsequent one," Erik murmurs, raising the paper so it hides his face.

Charles rolls his eyes. "Really, Moira, I appreciate all of your help and insight into our unique situation. And it's nice to have a woman's touch around the place. I think it's a comfort to the children. A little taste of the life they once knew, perhaps, and a good role model for Raven." 

"Thank you," Moira says. That's all there really is to say. She excuses herself and leaves Charles and Erik to their banter and quiche. 

There isn't honestly much for her to do around the estate. She's no kind of caretaker, and anyway, the recruits they've managed to assemble are mostly grown, though they refer to them as children, as if they were a bunch of kindergartners in need of nap time and gold stars on their progress reports. She isn't always certain what to do about the children. God knows she isn't motherly. On the other hand, she's better at this pseudo-parenting than Erik is - at least she hasn't given into the temptation to shove any of the teenagers off of anything.

Maybe Charles is right: maybe the best thing she can do, the most helpful thing, is be ordinary. She can be that inlet to the outside world, proof that there are people who will accept the mutants. She can be the voice of sanity when Charles' grand plans go astray, which they surely will. In the meantime, she's still extraordinary in her own way, and it isn't as if she doesn't have work of her own to prepare for. She'll go on long runs around the grounds to keep in shape for field work - there's no way she's going back to the typing pool, having been an agent. She's got to be twice as good as the men just to be considered, but that's never been a problem for her. She'll practice with Erik at the shooting range. She can nearly match him shot for shot despite his aptitude with metal. She'll help the children with the bizarre homework that Charles sets for them - he's really not used to having students who aren't of a university mindset and maturity. She'll be there, solid steady Moira, fighting the good fight, just like she's always done.

She may not have fantastic powers, but she does her species credit, she feels. That's really what she's been hoping for all these years. She's one up on the boys' club, anyway. She smiles and heads to her room, preparing herself to handle the next crisis with all of the not-inconsiderable skill and wisdom that ordinary can bring to bear.


End file.
